A Message of Hope

     When I was in fourth grade, I had a panic attack. It was my first one. We had a big test at school. I couldn’t focus on it.

    It felt like my body wasn’t really there. My hand started to shake. Soon my whole body was shaking. I started crying and couldn’t stop. It was hard to breathe.

    My mom took me to the doctor. The doctor said I probably had test anxiety. My mom asked my teachers to give me extra time on exams.

    That helped. But it turned out that was just the beginning. There were more mental health challenges to come.

    I was in fourth grade when I had my first panic attack. At the time, I didn’t understand what was happening. We had an important test at school that day, and I couldn’t concentrate while taking it.

    I remember sitting in a chair, feeling like my body wasn’t really there. My hand started to shake—and before I knew it, my entire body was shaking too. I started crying and couldn’t stop. It became difficult for me to breathe.

    My mother picked me up and took me directly to the doctor, who said I probably had test anxiety. After that, my mother asked my teachers if I could have some extra time on exams.

    That helped temporarily—but as it turned out, that was only the beginning. The road ahead would challenge my mental health in ways I never expected.

    A few years later, some kids at school started bullying me. They made fun of the way I looked. They didn’t believe I had test anxiety. They called me whiny. It made me feel awful.

    I started having bad stomach pains. It felt like my insides were tangled in knots. I couldn’t focus on anything. Most of the time, I felt sad and alone.

    One day at school, the stomach pain became excruciating. It scared me. I called my mom. She took me to the emergency room. The doctors there said I had anxiety disorder and depression.

    A couple of years later, some kids at school started bullying me. They made fun of my appearance. They didn’t believe I had test anxiety and called me whiny. The way they treated me made me feel terrible.

    That’s when I started having intense stomach pains. It felt like my insides were tangled in knots, and it made focusing on anything impossible. Most of the time, I felt sad and alone.

    Then one day at school, the stomach pain became excruciating. Terrified, I called my mother, and she rushed me to the emergency room. The doctors there diagnosed me with anxiety disorder and depression.

    In the past few years, I’ve learned that I’m not alone. My words matter, and I matter. Talking about my feelings has gotten easier. I know people are here for me. I know I’m loved.

    Hiya has also given me a way to reach other teens. I go to events and talk about Hiya’s mission. I want to normalize talking about mental health.

    If you’re struggling, talk to someone. It can be a counselor, a friend, or a family member. Holding in hard feelings doesn’t help. By speaking up, you can get help. And you’ll see that you’re not alone. •

    Over the past few years, I’ve learned that I’m not alone. My words matter, and I matter. I’ve gotten more comfortable talking about my emotions. I know people are here for me and I am loved.

    Hiya has also given me a way to reach other teenagers. I’ve been able to go to events and talk about Hiya’s mission. My goal is to normalize talking about mental health.

    If you’re struggling, find someone you can talk to: a counselor, a friend, or a family member. Holding in difficult emotions doesn’t feel great. By opening up, you can hopefully get the help you need—and above all, you’ll see that you’re not alone. •